


Wanting

by Harukami



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Bad Ending, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 05:47:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harukami/pseuds/Harukami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Koujaku loses his mind, "Aoba" works for Toue, which certainly puts him in a new sort of contact with old friends, and lets him meet someone he didn't even know existed.</p><p>Featuring a big mess of "Shiroba", bad end Koujaku, Vitri, Toue, and Sei. TW for violence and gore and non-consensual sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanting

When he realizes that he's free, that 'Aoba' left and he's what remains, he starts laughing. It draws Koujaku's attention -- well, it would, wouldn't it? That mindless beast, slobbering over Ryuuhou's corpse like it's a piece of meat -- but he doesn't care, throws open his arms wide. "Come, Koujaku," he says, between helpless peals of laughter. And then, mockingly: "It's fine."

Koujaku lets out a wail and he _feels_ it drive home the nail in Aoba's coffin, feels reason curl itself completely foetal. Aoba doesn't want to be 'Reason' any more, and so he will not be, he thinks; so Aoba will be Desire, Instinct, with no Reason keeping him in check, and finally he'll punish everything for choking him to death this long.

The weight of Koujaku's body barrels into his arms with a crushing weight, a blow that knocks him right off his feet and flings them both across the floor. Tears rise up in his eyes and roll down his cheeks; he can taste them as they seep past his open laughing lips and into his mouth, and he drinks them down with a perfect contentment. He has wanted this. He has wanted this. He has wanted this.

Koujaku is too strong, massively strong; even his muscles have been increased abruptly past their previous development; this close, he can see faint red lines, stretch marks, as his skin strains to contain his abrupt mass change. He leans up to lick one of those marks even while Koujaku's fingers close around his throat.

A color flushes into his cheek, strain and arousal, and he squirms under Koujaku's violent form, presses himself up to rub through his clothes against Koujaku's straining belly as Koujaku strangles him, bites into his jaw. He'll get torn to pieces like this, if Koujaku doesn't wring his throat first, and while that's not the best idea for long-term entertainment, at the moment it seems like this idea is as good as the other.

Deep down, he suspects Reason is struggling to destroy them both, and isn't that a funny turn of events? "Shhh," he whispers around the grip on his throat, leans up, licks Koujaku's cheek and tastes tears there too. "Poor thing."

Koujaku's grip shifts, shoves him over onto his front, wraps his arms behind his back and he lets out another laugh at that, because it seems ironic that Koujaku's goal seems to have changed to containment when he's nothing but a monster now and when he's been contained so long, but he can feel that's not the case; Koujaku is twisting his arms, is going to break them both at the shoulder, and moving to a position where he can bite him instead, teeth tearing at the back of his neck, that sexy nape that Koujaku's wanted to expose all this time, and Aoba relaxes to give him less to strain against, grinds against the floor and wonders if he can get himself off before Koujaku does enough damage that he can't get a hard-on any more, if that's even still possible.

But he hasn't cum yet when the door opens and two of Toue's masked guard come in. It's disappointing but it's also a path to get what he wants so he just twists his face up to grin at them. "Get Toue for me, okay?" he says, in his sweetest voice.

They obey, and he manages to do it right before Toue arrives; his shoulders crack, though he thinks from the sensation that it's a dislocation rather than an outright break, which is certainly easier to deal with, and he can feel his own blood flooding his neck and back as Koujaku's teeth tear at it, and it's awful and wonderful and he only just manages to cum in his pants by the time Toue arrives, walking in calmly and leaning on his cane, flanked by those two guards. What a leisurely fuck.

He pants for breath through agony and post-orgasmic haze and says, "Hey, I delivered you two lovely new tools. Do you want the power of Scrap?"

"You know that I do," Toue says with a deep amusement. "Has fate seen fit to render it into my hands?"

"Fate? You're the only one who believes in it, old man," Aoba says, laughing, saliva connecting his mouth to the floor. "Me, I'm a man of action. But I'll let you control that action, if you get Koujaku off me and let me keep him."

"Is that so?"

"It's what he'd hate the most," Aoba says sweetly.

Toue laughs softly and says, "I have always wanted a second son."

***

It takes about a month for all the color to leave him again. His hair bleaches more slowly than his skin does, but that's to be expected. It still has traces of pale blue, but it'll be gone soon enough. That's good; he doesn't want it to be his image color any longer. He decorates it with red, decorates his arms and legs with red, decorates his body in white, and thinks he looks like a phantom. He is the ghost of Seragaki Aoba, perhaps, he thinks, and laughs to himself as he trails a hand along a wall. A grudge who has survived after the person himself has not.

He Scraps whoever Toue wants Scrapped, and a few more besides. Toue is quite indulgent about that, possibly because he recognizes that there's not a thing he could do to prevent it, and that's fine for Aoba. He is usually not sent out alone, and that suits him fine too.

Virus and Trip, it turns out, had been working for Toue all along. This makes enough sense that it throws him into hysterical giggles. They shrug it off with equal smiles. "Now Aoba-san and we have something more in common, perhaps," Virus says.

"Seems like Aoba and we are more alike than ever before," Trip says.

"How fitting. We are your biggest fans, after all."

"That's right, you were," Aoba says, and drops his robes, so he's only in his stockings and gloves. "You've wanted to fuck me all this time, right? It's actually a little annoying how you've held yourself back. But then, human beings need to be patient to get what they want, don't they?"

"It seems that way."

"Yeah. Sometimes."

"I'll let you hurt me as much as you want," Aoba says, smiling, and they do. They're a bit predictable like that, he thinks. He's always understood them much more than the original Aoba ever did. Though they're still delicate about things, still largely brutalize him at his permission, and he thinks that's mostly because they enjoy watching him work, enjoy watching him do this to himself.

Koujaku recovers his sanity now and again, but never for very long. It's a bit entertaining and very pathetic. Aoba loves the moment when that desperation and fear is swallowed up by insanity again. At one point, he holds Koujaku's cheeks between his hands and keeps his eyelids held open with his fingertips -- not like Koujaku can do much to resist it with his arms bound behind his back -- and gazes in them until Koujaku no longer exists in them and all that's there is a wild monster, drooling for his blood.

He gives it to him, of course. He'd give Koujaku anything but his sanity and his freedom, since both of those were his trophies. "Koujaku," he whispers, as he pushes Koujaku into himself and rides his desperate uncontrolled thrusts as Koujaku chews his neck and shoulders and arms bloody, whatever he can reach of Aoba's skin, trying, perhaps, to take Aoba into himself. "Koujaku. Koujaku. It's fine. It's fine. it's fine."

What a mockery.

It's a life that may get predictable someday, and when it does -- if it does -- perhaps he will let Koujaku eat him for real. What would it look like, for Koujaku to come back to his sanity and find Aoba's half-eaten corpse there? What sort of beautiful tableau would that make?

But he's not bored yet, and there is something he wants answers to.

***

Eventually, he gets them. He has been patient, so patient, with the tips that Virus and Trip drop, with the hints that Toue has left, and eventually he is rewarded, Toue stroking gentle fingers over his pure white hair and down his scarred neck.

"Aoba-kun," he says, "your brother has been begging to meet you."

"My brother?"

"You have a brother," Toue says. "I have raised him like my own son here, wanting nothing."

Aoba knows enough of Toue to imagine exactly what that means. 'Wanting nothing'? Nonsense. Everyone wants things. He's living proof of how far down people might repress it, though. What would it be like, to grow up as Toue's 'son', when all Toue has ever been interested in is experimenting with destroying and controlling men's minds?

Well, not that Aoba can criticize.

But Toue is a real fiend about it. Aoba at least gets pleasure in it; Toue has nothing but a vision. He's a visionary, a real idealist, exactly the sort of person Aoba thinks he'll destroy someday just to see that shell crack. There is so much in Toue that can be destroyed because there is so much in Toue that he has built up. No, a son would be an experiment, a tool, and if he 'wants nothing' it's because he believes there is nothing in the world he can have.

Aoba is sure he must want something, though, and he immediately wishes to know what that is. It must have something to do with himself; a son who 'wants nothing' would not beg for anything.

"I would like," Aoba says, "to meet my brother. Take me to him."

He is lead down long corridors and up to the top floor, and from there into a small side room. And through that side room into a bigger room.

It's a child's play room that Aoba can appreciate the aesthetics of, soft toys and soft cushions and soft balloons, all designed for someone much younger than the beautiful and fragile-looking man in his early twenties sitting there. He doesn't look up at first, not as Aoba is shut in the room with him, and when he does it's slow, almost drugged.

He has the most beautiful eyes Aoba has ever seen. Aoba comes over, gazing into them. They are numb and dark and incomprehensible, and behind them he sees more desperation than he has ever seen in one person. Even Koujaku, during scrap, didn't have that much desperation. Not when he was being covered by the tattoo. Not when he tried to escape reality. Not when he realized Aoba was destroying his mind. Not even during his first transformation into the mindless beast he had become. The amount of need in his brother's eyes is so intense that Aoba feels his lips curling into a smile in automatic response.

_A kindred spirit._

"Aoba," his brother -- Sei, Toue had said his name was -- says, in a soft, delicate, fragile voice. "I have wanted to meet you."

"I only just heard of you, Brother," Aoba says, and shoves toys out of the way to sit with him, to take Sei's cold hands, bring them up to his mouth and kiss their knuckles. "My own dear brother. I never realized I had you, so I never wanted you."

"Aoba...?" Sei searches him over. "You've lost your color."

"I have gone back to the beginning, Brother. Like an infant, I consist of only one thing."

Sei seems to understand, absolutely completely. "Yes. You are only one third of Aoba. The other two are gone. Yet, you are Aoba."

"I'm Aoba, of course."

"I have wanted to meet you," Sei says. He leans in close, rests his cheek against Aoba's. "There is something I want to ask of you. It is something only you can do."

Aoba smiles, pulls Sei into his arms. Sei's body is warm and he can feel a weak, fluttering pulse. He is bigger than Aoba, if only a little, but he feels so much smaller, a fragile being. "What is it, Brother?"

Sei presses his lips to Aoba's ear in a gentle kiss, an excuse for whatever surveillance they're under, and whispers, "Please destroy me. Please, please destroy me."

Smiling so wide his cheeks hurt, he wraps both arms around Sei. He can feel the hope swelling in that fragile body. Of course. A child raised by Toue can only become this, couldn't he? Like he'd thought, it's a wanting so deep and so thorough that it destroys everything but that desire. Release. Freedom. Self-destruction. He understands it. He is, perhaps, the only person in the world who can understand it, and he is the only person in the world who has the power to grant it.

Aoba holds Sei to him, tender and loving. He had never before realized he had Sei, and so he had never wanted him. He can only want the things that he sees in front of him. 

"No," he whispers. "You're mine now."


End file.
